Turning The Tables
by Angelustatt
Summary: Sort of a Coda to 4.08, Wishful Thinking. Sam makes a decision about the coming War....


_A/N: Ever had the writing bug bite you after an episode? Well I did today and this was the result. Sammy demanded he was allowed to speak his piece.....and who am I to demand that boy anything when he's in a mood? LOL _

_Btw...this is merely a taste of what Sam will be like in Rockabye and Hellbent, guys....just so you know. ;)_

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How they managed to get in the door without them both hitting the floor? Sam would never know. He stumbled over to the bed farthest from the door, knowing that Dean hated that bed. Dean liked to sleep closest to the door to keep Sam safe.

Well fuck that. Fuck safe.

Sam didn't need to be kept safe. Not anymore. It was Dean that needed protection now. It was his big brother, the guy he had looked up to all his life for security and answers, that need to be watched over.

Dean didn't even stir as Sam dropped him on the bed and pulled off his boots. He dragged the covers over him and made sure that Dean wouldn't wake up cold, although it was take a miracle for Dean to wake up before dawn with the amount of booze he had consumed.

A miracle. That was fucking joke in itself.

Sam had thought it was a miracle that had brought his brother back to him. That all those long whispered prayers from him had finally been answered when he felt Dean hugging him again and it sank in that it was really his brother back from the dead.

Back from Hell.

Sam knew better now. His faith was gone, his beliefs shattered. For four months, he had begged, pleaded and prayed for his brother. Lost and hurting, torn and bleeding at the seams without Dean by his side to guide him. To annoy him. To just be that pain in the ass brother Sam needed in his life as much as he needed air.

He'd taken a path Sam knew was wrong. Turned his back on what was right and went for the darker side, let it seduce him with empty promises of who he could save, that he could get strong enough to pull his brother out of Hell.

But Sam knew better now. Only Angels had that power….

The anger that surged up in him almost choked Sam, his vision blurring with hot tears that escaped to slide down his face. He ran his fingers over Dean's head, wishing he could do more to take the nightmares away from him than watch his brother drink himself into a stupor just to sleep.

Grabbing the keys to the Impala, Sam stalked out of the motel room, making sure it was locked behind him before he climbed behind the wheel of the muscle car. There was someone he needed to see, someone who owed him answers.

It was a twenty minute drive to the lake, Sam parking the Impala and leaving it behind as he walked down to the edge of the lake itself. It was lit up like pure liquid silver by the moonlight, a huge shimmering disc that allowed him to see details on the shore around him as he scooped up a handful of stones.

He looked down at them, noting how smooth they were, the sort of stones his father had taught Dean and Sam to skip across water when they were younger. Rubbing a thumb across one, Sam suddenly pitched it out onto the lake. This was the place he'd asked to meet…if they would show at all. Sam had no guarantees on that front.

The presence behind him was felt before he heard it. Sam paused as he was about to throw another stone, speaking over his shoulder to the figure behind him. "Why?"

"You don't want to know that answer."

Sam turned sharply, appraising the person behind him with cold, angry eyes. "Don't talk me about what I want to know. You did this to him. You brought him back this way. Can't you see what it's doing to him?"

"The decision was not mine." Castiel stepped forward out of the shadows. The expression on his face seemed almost regretful, but Sam wasn't buying it so easily.

"So God wanted my brother like this? Drinking? Waking up all hours of the night because of the nightmares he has of Hell? That's who I've been praying too all this time? A God that wants my brother to suffer?" Sam demanded, his fists clenched. He didn't care this was an Angel he was speaking to. All Sam cared about was what Dean was being put through. "Why was he even brought back if you couldn't let him forget what happened down there?"

"Because he needs to remember, Sam." Castiel was calm as always, his tone neutral even as his blue eyes seemed to pierce through the young man.

"What?" Sam couldn't believe he'd heard that. "Why? What the hell purpose could that serve?"

"It reminds your brother of the price of failure. Of what awaits the world should he fail." Castiel's voice was deeper now, pushing his point across. "If your brother fails, then what he faced? Is what will befall all of humanity. It's what will befall you. If I could remove Dean's memories, his nightmares? I would."

"But you won't."

" I cannot. I was merely commissioned with bringing him from Hell. Told to guide him on his path. If Dean is to survive the coming War and everything he will face, then he will need to call on the one thing that will save him. He needs to call on you, Sam."

"Me?" Sam was taken aback by that. "But…but you told him he had to stop me."

"And what did you do with that information? You turned away from using your powers, save one time where you merely showed your human flaw. You used them to save yourself and your brother. That bond…that connection you share? That is what Dean needs." Castiel moved up closer to Sam, looking him straight in the eye. "Your brother needs you now, more than ever. You could not bring him out of Hell, but you can save him from it. Be there for him. Listen to him. The War is coming, that much I know. Sides will be chosen. Make sure you known which side you are on, Sam. For Dean's sake."

Sam caught his breath a moment later as Castiel vanished, leaving Sam to swallow down the lump in his throat. He dropped the few stones he had left, scrambling back up the hill to the Impala and blasting out of the quiet parking lot a few minutes later.

**xxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx**

Dean felt like an extra from Thriller when he awoke, squinting his eyes against the thin fingers of sunlight that were peeking through the curtains. His stomach was a washing machine on spin cycle and with a lot of stumbling, he was able to make it to the bathroom in time, emptying his stomach of the bottle of scotch he'd drank the night before. Scrubbing a tired hand over his face, Dean turned on the faucet and washed his face, then rinsed his mouth.

The irresistible scent of coffee and breakfast bagels assaulted him a moment later as he opened the bathroom door again. Sam was sat at the small kitchen table, a brown bag in front of him as he sipped a coffee from a Styrofoam cup. "You look like crap, dude…you want some breakfast?"

"What? No lecture?"

"No…" Sam looked thoughtful for a moment, as though he was contemplating it. "Why? Did you want one? Cause I could bring up the whole issue of you wearing the same shirt for 3 days running, dude…"

Dean flipped him the finger, pausing as he saw the smile on Sam's face. "Alright…what's up with you?"

"Nothing…I got you breakfast, that's all. What? That's a crime now?"

Dean watched Sam for a moment, trying to work out if his brother was up to something? Had he slipped something in his coffee? He sat down at the table opposite Sam and picked up his own coffee, sniffing it briefly before Dean decided it was safe to drink.

"So how'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby.." Dean ground out, pulling a bagel out of the bag and chomping into it with a satisfied moan. He swallowed his mouthful and arched an eyebrow at Sam. "Next time I'd better not wake up on the wrong side of the room, dude. I thought you weren't drinking last night?"

" I wasn't."

Dean frowned. "Then why the hell did I end up in that bed? You know I sleep closest to the door, dude."

"Not anymore."

"Come again?" Dean arched his eyebrow again at his brother.

"You heard me, Dean."

Dean dropped his bagel down and fixed his brother with a scowl. "What the fuck is going on, Sam?"

"Nothing." Sam answered, cool and casual. "You've slept in that bed for as long as I can remember Dean. You were always there unless Dad was here. Then it was his place. Now it's mine."

"Excuse me?"

Sam put his coffee down and met his brother's confused and irritated gaze with his own. "You've watched out for me all my life. Right up until you went to Hell for me."

"So…what? Now you can watch your own back? You're the big man now?"

"No, that's not what this is about, Dean. This is about you and what you went through for me. This is about you seeing things that you've said you'll never talk about. If I can't help you deal with that? Then I can least watch out for you, watch your back. You need that. Whether you're willing to admit it or now, dude. You need someone looking out for you."

"Sammy…"

Sam shook his head. "I'm serious, Dean. You're barely sleeping, drinking all the time…and I know why. I get it. You can't talk about. Maybe not now, maybe not ever. But it doesn't matter. What matters to me is that you feel safe again. That you trust me again."

"I trust you, Sammy."

"No…you don't, Dean. Not completely. And I can't blame you. You saw what I can do, you saw that I was lying to you. I let Ruby guide me while you were gone…" Sam lowered his eyes then, ashamed of himself. "I didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. But that's changed now. You're here and I'm not alone anymore."

Bringing his eyes back up, he looked pointedly at Dean. "But neither are you, Dean. No matter what's coming. You're not in this alone. You've got me."

Dean nodded, feeling his throat closing up and trying to blame it on the hangover he was suffering. But a weight was lifting from his shoulders as he looked at Sam and saw nothing there but his kid brother, determined and stubborn, just like Dad. "You done with the chick flick talk? Or are we going to be painting our nails next?"

Sam laughed, the mood instantly lightening in the room. He didn't need to say anything else. Sam had always been able to read his brother, knew when he was lying, knew when he was putting on that bullshit mask and covering how he truly felt. Looking at Dean now, Sam saw nothing but gratitude and love in his brother's eyes. There was a light in them again that had been missing lately.

And no matter what it took? Sam would never take that away from his brother again. Bring on the Apocalypse, Sam knew what he was fighting for.

His brother.


End file.
